The List
by Hanspam
Summary: Birthdays can be traumatic... eventually TK, TriniJason
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Please bear with me. The second chapter will have a bit more of background and will explain how the characters have reached this stage of their lives. This first chapter is really more about setting the scene and the premise for the story. Any omissions will be dealt with soon enough.

Needless to say, I don't own any of the characters within the story, and feedback is always appreciated.

* * *

Now I'm nearing thirty, I have made a decision. Secretly, without telling any of my friends, I've drawn up a 'To Do' list which I'm trying to complete before the big 3-0.

I don't know what the trigger for this sudden crisis was. I've never been overly bothered by my age, and in the years gone by I have never seen the age of thirty as some sort of milestone. Still, it's six months until the big date, and one day a couple of weeks ago I suddenly began over-analysing every single little thing about my life.

When I left college, I didn't have any idea what I wanted to do with my life Trini settled back in California, and I followed her to the same town, eventually finding a job working in the local courthouse as a court reporter. Every day is certainly different, and my natural curiosity is satisfied by listening to different cases and hearing people's stories. It wasn't what I'd ever pictured myself doing for a job, but what do you do when you've achieved your dreams by the age of nineteen? After winning an Olympic medal, anything else is bound to feel like a sort of demotion.

Despite that, I never thought I was unfulfilled, or lacking anything in my life. I have friends who live close by, I go on dates occasionally and I enjoy my life. At least, I thought I did. My subconscious, however, seemed to want to educate and inspire me in many different ways, and so one Tuesday evening, when I had cancelled a babysitting date for Trini to stay at home and watch DVDs, I found myself using the shorthand notepad I normally use for work to write a list of things to do before next February.

The list started out full of grand ideas and sweeping generalisations. For example, number one in my first draft was _"Go to Africa_." Right. As though Africa was not a huge continent with many different countries and cultural differences, but just one country. The first draft of the list also included seeing penguins in their natural habitat, designing my own wedding dress and walking across America.

The grandeur of the list may have had something to do with a bottle of white wine which seemed to have disappeared rather quickly, come to think of it. It's amazing how my opinion of my abilities, not to mention finances, suddenly increased with direct proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed.

Although the first draft of the list died a quick death, the idea continued to niggle away at me for the following couple of days. I met Trini for coffee one lunchbreak not too long afterwards, and the topic of birthdays came up.

* * *

We meet in a cafe around the corner from where I work. Easy access for me, and as Trini works from home she generally jumps at the chance to get out of the office when she can.

I walk into the crowded coffee house at a little after twelve-thirty, and see Trini already seated at a coveted table with comfortable chairs, and with two lattes waiting in front of me.

"You're a godsend, do you know that?" I say, slumping gratefully into the oversized armchair and moving the untouched latte towards me. "This has been the day from hell." Enjoying my job does not mean I am impervious to the odd bad day. Or bad week, for that matter.

"It can't have been any worse than mine," Trini argues, sitting back in her chair and closing her eyes. "Trying to balance the accounts of someone who believes tracking down one till receipt out of four is anyone's worst nightmare. He presented me with about ten pieces of paper which looked as though they'd been through the laundry more than once, and then had the gall to tell me they represented all his expenditure over the past year."

"I don't envy you that, anyway," I reply, and take a sip of the coffee.

"The real world is fantastic," Trini drawls, with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Still, whenever I feel down, I always remember that you will be thirty before me, and that makes me feel a lot better."

"You're a true friend, do you know that?" I retort, and Trini grins. I'm only a month older than her, but ever since college she's gloried in the fact that she was born in March, but I was born in February. Of course, in high school it was the other way around, and she was jealous of me. I got my driver's license first, was able to stay out late first...

The mention of age draws my mind back to the fateful night already beginning to gain legend in my mind under the title That Tuesday, and I groan slightly.

"What?" Trini asks, unable to take the curiosity out of her voice. "Did you forget to pay your parking tickets again? For someone who works in a courthouse, you have a lax interpretation of time limits."

"No!" I say, affronted, and throw a sugar packet from the bowl on our table at her. "I haven't gotten a parking ticket for at least, um, a month. And stop talking to me like you're about to convict me of some sort of felony! But that's not what's bothering me."

"Sorry," Trini says, and has the sense to actually look sorry as opposed to smirking and winking at me. "So, what's the problem? Anything I can help you with?"

"Not unless you can magically resurrect any powers we have floating around us and create a time machine so I don't have to be thirty yet," I say mournfully, and take a large sip of coffee. "I sort of spent all last Tuesday night compiling a list of things to do before The Birthday."

"The Tuesday night you cried off from babysitting?" Trini says with a fearsome glare.

Oops. The night I decided I was not in the right frame of mind to babysit my three year old godson, and pretended I was behind at work. And in my defense, how many three year olds have you come across who think a good night is hearing their godmother complain that she'll never get to see penguins in their natural habitat?

"Did I say Tuesday? I meant Wednesday," I say with a grin. "You know me and dates."

Trini doesn't exactly look pacified, but neither does she look homicidal. "So, what was on the list? And why are you talking about your birthday as though it's written in capital letters?

"I don't know," I admit. "I didn't think I was going to be affected by it, but then Tue- I mean, Wednesday, I got home and started thinking. And I know we both have had a better life than most, and have been incredibly lucky, but there are still so many things I want to do with my life. I should have done them all by now, but instead I'm here."

"Just because you're going to be thirty doesn't mean you'll keel over and die," Trini points out helpfully. "It's not the end of the world, Kim. It's not even remotely old. You can still do all the things you want to do, like... what kind of things do you want to do?"

I am not mentioning the penguins. She will laugh, and remind me of the time we went to Stone Canyon Zoo for her eighth birthday. I do NOT want that brought up again. I still have nightmares.

"Well, after a bottle of wine, the list was very ambitious," I admit. "But there's not a lot of point in saying you want to see Africa when you have the grand total of one thousand and eighty dollars in your savings account. And I think parachuting over the Grand Canyon is probably out of the question as well."

"Where would you land?" Trini, ever the practical one, asks. Then her eyes narrow, and she looks at me with a horribly knowing expression. "Let me hazard a guess. Was wine involved in this decision-making process?"

"Maybe," I say defiantly. "Moving swiftly on, maybe a list isn't such a bad idea." I pause, and gaze unseeingly in front of me while my mind works overtime. Then, I strike gold. "Why don't you make a list too? We could do new and exciting things together."

Trini shakes her head. "I don't think I share your views about turning thirty, Kim. Maybe it's because I'm settled and have a family, but I don't think I feel as restless as you do."

"Please don't turn this into another conversation where you tell me that Jason has a friend at work who would be just perfect for me," I beg. After the fifth bad date in a row, I placed a strict embargo on Jason fixing me up. This hasn't stopped Trini attempting to place 'good catches' in my way ever since. "You know ever since the run of bad luck I decided Jason is the only human in his office."

Trini looks unruffled, and finishes her drink before continuing. "If you say so, but if you change your mind one of Jason's colleagues is divine."

"Divine like a prison sentence," I mumble under my breath, but luckily I don't think she heard. I'm within target range, and Trini can still kick harder than anyone I know. "Well, if you don't join me, I'll just have to devise the list by myself. Would you at least be the keeper of the list?"

"If only to keep you on the straight and narrow," Trini agrees, and pulls a pen and pad out from her oversized handbag. "There's no time like the present. What do you want to do before you're thirty?"

It's difficult to pull out any specifics, there's only a burning need to do... _something_. All my life, there's been something to aim for. Gymnastics, college, creating a career for myself. Now I have the career, but am not quite sure what to do with it, and it's caused me to question everything else going on in my life.

A long held ambition from when I was a kid suddenly pops into my memory, and this is one that doesn't involve Africa or penguins at all. "I want to learn ballroom dancing."

"You've been watching too many episodes of _Dancing with the Stars_," Trini mutters darkly, but bends down over the pad and scribbles something down anyway.

"There have to be some local classes. I'll look online when I get home from work," I decide. And so what if I've been watching too much TV? A girl's allowed to want to learn to waltz, after all. "And I want to learn a language," I say wildly.

"Which one?" Trini says sceptically, pausing from her writing to look at me. "You can already speak French, so I don't think that counts."

"I can barely speak French," I correct Trini. Three summers in France with my mother, and I can barely do more than order hot chocolate. "I think Spanish would be a good language to learn," I say, while daydreaming about paella and flamenco dancing. "Plus, I know that the community centre do adult classes in Spanish on a Thursday. If I wanted to learn Flemish or Estonian, that may have been a problem."

"Good luck with breaking it to your mother that you've actively decided against learning the language of her adopted country," Trini grins, but starts writing again anyway. "Are you going to add the whole 'parachuting in the Grand Canyon' thing or have you decided against being insane?"

"I'd like to skydive again," I say, thinking nostalgically of younger days and skydiving over Angel Grove. "But let's remove the Grand Canyon from the equation."

"Got it," Trini says. "Jason may want to join you if you go ahead with skydiving. He's been mentioning wanting to try it for a long time. I think he was jealous that you guys did the sponsored jump but we missed out. I, meanwhile, would be happy monitoring the jump from the safety of the ground."

"No problem," I say, and pick up my mug to finish the latte, still thinking intently of possibilities. "Can you put on the list that I want to get a promotion? And maybe buy a dog. And get married."

"It's nice to see you haven't lost your sense of perspective," Trini says mockingly. "You've got six months, Kim. And if you don't get all these things done, you'll get depressed and end up in a worse position than you are now. Why not try to keep your tasks to those you can achieve? There's no point in starting out to make yourself feel bad on purpose."

"Fair enough," I say distractedly, and start chewing on a frayed fingernail while trying my best to concentrate my mind.

It's true to say that my dating career has pretty much been a disaster the past few years.

One brief engagement aside, the most significant dating event which has happened to me was going on a date and being told I had 'nice eyes'. Seriously. I have lost all faith in men.

So, maybe aiming to get married before I'm thirty is a stupid idea.

Okay, it _is_ a stupid idea. I'd end up married to the guy from the gas station who asks me to marry him every time I go there. I don't think that's a solid basis for a lasting relationship.

There's nothing stopping me from wanting to right past wrongs, however. And there are plenty of those. "I should probably try and call Stephen. And tell him I'm sorry I threw his priceless collector's item baseball from the World Series of whenever through the window of his Porsche. He was an idiot, but he maybe didn't deserve that."

Trini tries to stifle a giggle, but doesn't entirely succeed. "I knew that was you. He called me after you walked out and asked if I'd seen you and whether you'd mentioned taking both his most precious possessions away from him."

This is something I've never heard before. "Really? What did you say?" She shrugs.

"Well at first I thought he meant you and the engagement ring. So I said that I hadn't seen you but had spoken to you, and I was sure you could patch things up if he just apologised. But then he said that his autographed baseball had gone, and the windshield of his precious car had been shattered by something that would have had the proportions of a baseball. I just told him it was probably a neighbourhood kid and that he should lock his car up at night."

"What did he say?"

"He said the car was already in the garage."

Oops. Suffice it to say that I wasn't exactly pleased at finding him in bed with another women three months after he proposed. "He probably found the stupid baseball anyway, I put it on the shelf with the paintcans so all he had to do was raise his eyeline. I drew the line at actually dipping the thing in paint, though. I wanted to leave my options open in case there was ever a divorce settlement and I could auction it off for food money. But as much as it pains me to say it, there were problems with the relationship even before that. I probably owe him an apology."

Trini nods, a small smirk playing across her lips, and writes something on her pad.

We haven't been best friends for the most part of our lives without getting to know when the other one is holding back. Everything about Trini's posture is screaming 'I want to tell you something', and even though I know I will probably regret it, I bite. "What? And don't try to tell me you were only thinking of what to pick up at the grocery store."

Trini sighs, and fiddles with her pen, flicking it up and down and in between her fingers before finally deciding to speak. I'd like to think it's because she doesn't want to face my death glare any longer, but it's probably because she's under some sort of impression that I need to hear what she has to say. "Look, why don't you stop beating around the bush and creating who knows how many targets to hit before February?"

Oh, no. I know exactly what she's getting at. However, I can play dumb for a lot longer than she can. "Really? Do you think I should just put all my savings into the lottery and hope I become a millionaire?

Unfortunately, Trini is also famous for possessing a death glare, and she isn't afraid to fix me with it. And nor is she a fan of playing dumb when straight talking will do. "You know exactly what I mean. You and he have been dancing around each other – and don't even think of making some ballroom dancing analogy – ever since he moved here. But you haven't talked about anything significant, and you really should. It would be healthy, even if nothing more came out of it. And if you're planning on apologising to Stephen for cracking the windshield of his car, you can't exactly say you won't apologise to Tommy. Or at least talk to him."

The only thing I can think of to say is useless, but I say it anyway in the hope she'll get distracted. "I didn't just crack the windshield. I made very sure the hole was a proper hole to show my displeasure."

"How exactly is that relevant?" Trini asks, and slumps back in her chair in exasperation, before pulling herself up into a seated position and looking me in the eye once more. "Try to understand me, Kim. I'm not suggesting you jump into a volcano. I'm not suggesting you trek through Antarctica or the North Pole."

How did she know? Have I let something slip about the penguins?

"And I'm not forcing you to do anything. I just think it would be good for the both of you if you sat down and talked properly. I don't even necessarily think you would be that well suited for each other any more in a relationship. But you need to talk to each other honestly if you ever want to be friends again. I know you do."

I hate it when you're right. I also hate it when she says something deliberately calculated to get me annoyed, such as insinuating that Tommy and I will no longer be well suited.

It's not even that I think there's a chance anymore. I'm not even sure it would work out. I just want to prove her wrong. Preferably without losing face at the same time.

"Fine. Put 'big dramatic discussion with Tommy' on the list," I grumble. "It's not as though we've got much to discuss any more. We talked about the letter years ago."

"But you might want to discuss the huge crush you still have on him," Trini says knowingly.

"You know what he's like – you could hit him over the head with a mallet, but unless you spell it out to him in actual conversation he still won't have a clue."

This is far from being something I want on the list. I was hoping to have happy things on the list, hence the aforementioned marriage and dog. I was hoping to skip the messy bits, the actual progress, like actually breaking the news to an old boyfriend that I actually think he's The One. And then hearing that he wants nothing to do with me.

"No pain, no gain..." Trini says tantalisingly. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"It's alright for you," I point out, neatly avoiding the question. "You've found your soulmate and you're happy. Have you forgotten what it's like to put your heart on the line and then have it stomped on? I already did it once to Tommy, and I don't really want the favour returned."

"It's up to you," Trini says calmly, and puts the lid back on her pen. "I may be the keeper of the list but you ultimately decide what's going on it. Just because I think both of you would be better off talking things through – which implies both of you have issues the other should know about, by the way – doesn't mean it automatically goes on the list."

Back up a minute. _What?_

"Issues?" I say nonchalantly, pushing my now empty mug away from me and into the middle of the marble effect table. "What kind of issues?"

Damn Trini and her range of smug expressions. "You'll never know if you don't ask now, will you?" She rips the piece of paper from her pad and pushes it towards me, before putting the pen and pad back in her bag and pushing her chair back. "I have to go back to work, a client's coming over at two to collect his reports and I have to be on time otherwise I'll be late picking up Charlie from the sitter."

"Let me know if you want a sitter one evening. I could take Charlie to the park," I offer, still thinking over what Trini has said. So Tommy still has issues? Does that mean he still hates me and has barely been tolerating me these past few months? Or does it mean something more?

It can't mean anything more than friendship. Can it? We're so different now. Back in the Ranger days we complemented each other but these days I don't think that's the case. I know I still find him very attractive, which I have made the mistake of sharing with Trini, but I don't know whether a relationship will work. And I am really starting to regret the idea of the list.

"I'll call you during the week," Trini says, and stands up. "Do you want to walk out together?"

"Sure," I say, and mentally hit myself over the head to force my thoughts into some sort of coherence before we walk out of the cafe and towards the courthouse. "Is dinner on Sunday still on?"

"Yeah. I think Zack's coming over, and of course, Tommy will be there," Trini says, and digs me in the ribs. "So wear something nice and smile a lot, won't you?"

"Remind me why this friendship is so strong?" I ask, trudging along beside her. "What was meant to be a conversation about my targets to hit before I'm thirty has turned into the most depressing exchange in my life."

"All I did was mention an ex-boyfriend and close friend," Trini says logically. "You brought in the depression all on your own. It's not my fault you still like him but can't tell him."

"And you're always right," I continue to grumble as we turn a corner and walk onto the street where the courthouse is situated. "That's surely not a normal basis for a friendship."

"E-mail me the finished list and we'll work out how to go about it," Trini advises. We reach the steps of the courthouse and Trini pulls her car keys out of her bag. "After all, it's not every day a girl turns thirty."

"I hate you," I say, but with a smile on my face. She may be annoying at times, but we've been through so much that I know I'm exactly the same to her. And when she says things I don't want to hear, it's normally for my own good. "I'll call you tomorrow. Give Charlie a kiss and say hi to Jason for me".

"Charlie doesn't even remember what you look like seeing as you called off babysitting to get drunk on your own," Trini says sarcastically. "I would be worried, but you're getting so old I know you're responsible underneath it all."

"Goodbye, Trini," I say sternly, and we smile at each other before she walks towards the parking lot and I climb the steps of the building to go back to work.

With friends like Trini, who needs a life coach?


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the wait between chapters. I'm doing a correspondence course at the moment and it has eaten into my free time considerably. I hope to be able to update sooner next time, and hope that you enjoy the following chapter!!

* * *

I am well aware that I am a drama queen. It's both a blessing and a curse. I can use my hyperactivity to get me into a lot of trouble in this respect. If I get an idea in my head, I normally run with it. And then run a little more, and then more until it's the end of the line and there's nowhere else to go. 

Which makes what I just read a very, very bad thing.

_

* * *

__Aquarius_

_This is the month where you will get what you want - but only with a little coercing, a lot of persuasion, and your last hope._

* * *

Now, that could mean anything. It could mean that I get the last top in the sale at Barney's. It could mean that I get a seat on the bus for the first time in forever.

But surely this is something more than mere coincidence? The week that I decide to make an all-encompassing, extremely daunting and incredibly stupid list, I pick up my monthly copy of Glamour magazine, which tells me that this will be the month which changes my life.

Not in so many words, but still...

I'm getting ready for dinner at Trini and Jason's, only three days after Trini and I made the first draft of my list. And it only took me thirty minutes after leaving the coffee shop to realise that the list is probably a very bad idea.

Sure, my life isn't perfect. And I'd like to be a more rounded individual. Wouldn't everyone? I coasted through college, only took classes I thought would be interesting and consequently left school with very little idea of what I actually wanted to do with my life.

I moved back to California when I was 23, following Trini back to Angel Grove, and that's when I met Stephen. I was working in an architect's office at the time, and he was working at one of the banks downtown. I always stopped off at the nearby Starbucks before work to get my morning caffeine fix, and I saw him practically everyday, waiting in line before me for his tall cappucino.

It only took a few conversations at the table where they keep the sugar before he asked me out on a date. Originally I'd only admired him for purely aesthetic purposes - tall, dark blond hair, swimmer's physique and a gorgeous smile - but he was actually a really nice person, and we shared the same, sarcastic sense of humour. One date turned to two, and two turned to five, and before I knew it we'd been dating for two years and he asked me to marry him.

And then... well. Let's just say that the baseball through the windshield was very well deserved, and leave it there, shall we? Water under the bridge, and all that.

I rush through my cramped apartment, trying to find something clean and crease-free to wear. In my haste to find somewhere close to the centre of town to live, I ended up compromising on space, and have never gathered up the energy to find somewhere with more than ten feet of space around me in any one room. I moved more times than I wanted to when I was younger, and I quite like the feeling of having put down roots.

I find a purple top in the bathroom, which is both clean and wrinkle-free, and has the added bonus of co-ordinating with my jeans I planned on wearing. We've had the Sunday dinners for a few years now, and although I'd love an excuse to wear some of the more fancy clothes gathering dust in my wardrobe, there's very little point in breaking out a dress only to have Charlie spill milk on it.

I almost make it to the bathroom to get changed when I hear the cordless phone ringing. Unfortunately, my apartment is less than tidy, and by the time I find the phone nestling in the fruit bowl the caller has hung up.

"If you want me, call my cell," I mumble, hoping the missed call only means I have escaped the focus of the telemarketers, and not someone I could actually need to speak to. Still, I'm late, and I need to look pretty, which takes a little effort.

My purse starts buzzing, and the caller has taken my instructions by calling my mobile phone. Still, at least I know my purse is on my sofa, and I root around various tubes of lipgloss before finding my phone and walking back towards the bathroom while pushing the talk button. "Hello?"

"Have you left yet?" Tommy asks, sounding slightly rushed.

I pause outside the bathroom door, and lean against the wall of my living room, staring in despair at the amount of junk that litters the floor and every available surface. One day, I really have to start spring cleaning. Focus on that, instead of acting on a stupid crush that will really go away soon. Honestly. The fact that my knees are starting to turn to jelly is actually immaterial.

"No, I'm still at home. Are you worrying that you're going to be the last one there again?"

Trini, evil genius that she is, has devised a rule that the last one of us to arrive has to do the dishes. Tommy was late the last time we had a dinner, two weeks ago, and complained about the unfairness of her rules the whole evening.

"I am not going to be the last one there this time, because I have a cunning plan. Do you want a ride there? If we're there after Zack, I'll wash and you can dry."

"You're only doing this because you know I'll say yes," I complain, even though I know full well that I will agree. Who could resist him anything? "And let me guess. You only just got home from the gym, and you're not going to be ready for hours."

"Maybe. But at least this way you can have a glass of wine with dinner..." he says, dropping a hint of pleading into his voice. "Come on, Kim. This way, I've got an ally against Jason giving me Trini's washing up gloves and telling me to make sure I wash the outside of the pans as well as the inside. You've always been better at the quick retorts than I have."

Sold. "And flattery gets you everywhere," I say.

"Who said it was a good thing?" Tommy says, and laughs. "Kidding. Pick you up in twenty minutes?"

"I'll meet you outside," I say, and hang up the phone before throwing it back in the direction of my sofa and running back into the bathroom. Is the purple top too dressy? Too obvious? Not obvious enough?

Sometimes (and this part is ashaming) I really wish I was Cher in Clueless, who had the computer in her dressing room that told her which items of clothing went well together.

And yes, I am nearly thirty years old.

I rush around, barely stopping to catch my breath, to be ready in twenty minutes time. In reality, if Tommy hadn't offered me a lift I would probably have arrived at Trini's after him, and therefore taken full responsibility for cleanup duties. But the time limit makes me speedy, and I shower, change and apply makeup in less than the twenty minutes allowed.

It must be some kind of record. I decide that I should make the most of being a speedy dresser, and leave my apartment to wait outside. It's a nice evening, and the January air is mild. Even if Tommy is twenty minutes late I won't get cold, and it will give me a good opportunity to read my new, 'Introduction to Spanish' phrasebook.

Ten minutes later, Tommy's jeep pulls up outside my apartment block, and I peel myself away from the front stoop to walk down to meet him. He leans across the passenger seat to open the door for me, and I smile to see him.

But only because he's a good friend. Not because he's wearing a very attractive black polo shirt, smells of an aftershave I don't recognise but is gorgeous, and looks good enough to steal for my very own.

"Hola. Que tal?" I ask innocently, slipping my phrasebook into my bag and getting into the car. Tommy looks confused for a while, and then spies the book, in tell-tale red and yellow, peeping out of my oversized silver purse, and groans audibly.

"Why Spanish?" He asks, making sure I've secured my seatbelt before pulling away.

"Because it was the first book I saw," I admitted honestly. I went to the bookstore on Friday, visited the languages section, and the bright colours caught my eye straight away. "Don't you want to know why I'm learning a language?"

"Jason mentioned that you were going on a self-improvement crusade," Tommy says dryly as he drives through the quiet streets of Angel Grove, and I want to scream. Loudly. What else has Trini let slip? Oh no. Must be subtle.

"I thought it would be a nice way to mark turning thirty," I say non-committally, staring at my hands in my lap so that I don't give the game away by blushing, or simpering, or other typical I've-got-a-crush-on-you behaviour. "Besides, it's embarrassing being friends with three people who spent time in Europe, learning thousands of languages, and knowing that I can only ask how to get to the post office. That's as well as may be, but it's no help whatsoever when I want to know how much it would cost to get to Rome. Or Madrid, or wherever. So, a language it is."

"And when do you plan on putting your knowledge into practice? I'm expecting a free trip to Barcelona this summer," he says, and I look over at him, noticing that he's grinning. "Although with your language skills, we might end up in Copenhagen. Or Turkey."

If he wasn't driving, I'd hit him with my purse. Yes, he may be the best looking guy that I've met in real life, but that doesn't stop him from being insufferable sometimes. Besides, I remember from high school that he wasn't exactly bilingual either. "Like you'd get us there any quicker? I seem to remember in junior year that it took you two weeks to realise you'd gone to French class instead of Spanish. I don't think I'll be asking you to tutor me any time soon."

"I was distracted," Tommy says, but doesn't elaborate. Come to think of it, I seem to remember his sudden appearance in my French class coincided with when I spent a few enjoyable hours in the Wild West. And we were pretty much inseperable for the two weeks after that, before we realised that I wasn't going to fall into another time hole and was actually back for good.

We drive along in silence for a couple of minutes, before Tommy starts the conversation up again. "So, is learning Spanish the extent of your mid-life crisis?"

I look up in outrage, but the smile is back and he's actually looking at me again. Good. "It's hardly a mid-life crisis. It's not a crisis, and I'm not middle-aged!" I say, in mock outrage.

"My mistake."

"I want to go skydiving again. You interested?" I ask. And yes, I would value the company, but I'm also hoping that a return to activities we enjoyed as a couple might provoke some favourable feelings from him. My scintillating conversation isn't exactly doing the trick tonight.

"Maybe..." he says thoughtfully. "Last time was fun. We should see if Jason and Zack want to do it, they missed out last time."

So much for the romantic scenario I'd started to plan in my head, with us holding hands as we jump out of the plane, and landing side by side in a meadow...

So I have incredibly corny fantasies. Doesn't everyone? But Tommy's right, Jason in particular was disappointed that he missed out, and Zack's mentioned wanting to be more adventurous recently. "That's a good idea. We could maybe make a day trip out of it, and Trini could wait on the ground with the food. She may be better with heights than she used to be, but I'm not sure she'd want to jump out of a plane from a great height."

"Fair point," Tommy concedes as he pulls into Jason and Trini's street, just two blocks away from where I grew up. It's a quiet neighbourhood, with big houses and large back gardens. Lots of trees and greenery which look gorgeous in summer, and only marginally less so in the winter. "Do you want to go before your birthday or afterwards?"

I think for a moment. "Summer," I decide on. "Or late spring. Not yet... I want guaranteed good weather."

"Fair enough," Tommy says, and pulls the car into the driveway. "You'll have to tell me all about your list some other time," he says as he cuts the ignition and hops out of the car straight away, leaving me no time to respond, and next to no time to glimpse what I think is a wicked smile on his face.

All right. What the _hell_ has Trini told him?

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the five of us are gathered around the family kitchen table. Charlie has gone to bed, too tired to stay up and eat with the adults, and Trini's excelled herself with the food. There are quantities of chilli that even Rocky would have trouble finishing, and I hope that they are prepared to live off leftovers for the rest of the week.

"What do you want to do on your birthday, Kim?" Jason asks, and I know from the look in his eyes that he doesn't know anything about Trini's potential meddling. I can rule one friend out of the equation, at least... Jason and I have been friends for so long that I can almost instantly tell when he's lying or hiding something from me, and I've learned the hard way that the same applies to me.

Let's just say that his 27th birthday surprise party wasn't exactly a surprise, thanks to me being employed to distract him while Trini decorated the house. I can normally pull off the distraction technique, but Jase can see straight through me.

"It's on a Friday, right? Do you want to go dancing?" Zack asks, gesticulating with his spoon as he talks. Zack and I are incredible dancing partners, even if I do say so myself. It's not often that we go out together, but when we do I'm always exhausted the next morning, and my shoes are usually ruined thanks to energetic dancing.

"If you're free on the next day we could take Charlie to the zoo, or the playground," Trini suggests.

"The last time we took Charlie out all together he ate too much icecream and was sick on my shoe," Tommy shudders, remembering the eventful day the five of us took Charlie to the funfair. Zack, Tommy and I have an unfortunate tendency to spoil the only Ranger kid within easy distance, and he repaid us in spades that day. "Veto."

"Agreed," Jason nods, and turns to placate Trini. "He was so overexcited he didn't sleep for four nights. What about a celebratory dinner? We could go to a restaurant to save you cooking for all of us."

"How about driving up to LA to see Adam and Tanya?" Zack suggests. "We could make a weekend of it, pitch our movie scripts to some unknown hotshot, take the advance and run."

I roll my eyes, but don't make a move to stop the birthday plotting. It's frankly easier to let it all wash over me until an idea strikes, and I suddenly know what I want to do. I have all the time in the world to let my friends come up with every idea under the sun, and some more that no-one else has ever even thought of.

"What do you want, Kim?" Tommy asks suddenly, cutting off a frankly bizarre conversation between Trini and Zack about the ethics of selling intellectual property. "It's your birthday, you should be the one to dictate the birthday events."

I turn to him, sitting on my left side with Jason on his left hand, and smile thankfully. Normally I would have shouted at them all to stop, and told them that I knew what I wanted to do, but I'm far too wary of Trini and her information-wielding powers to rile her at the moment. I've been her friend for far too long, and know exactly what she's capable of, so am thankful to Tommy for stepping in and leaving the way clear for me to make my views heard.

"I think we should have a fun day," I say thoughtfully, picking up my fork and toying unseeingly with grains of rice in the bowl in front of me.

"Okay. Define fun," Trini, ever analytical, shoots back at me. I roll my eyes at her, but she just smirks and raises one eyebrow. I try and convey through the power of facial contortions that I am definitely not amused, with little to no effect.

"Joining a chain gang would be preferable to an interrogation," I mumble cryptically, and busy myself with the chilli.

"Uh oh, it looks like someone's not ready for the big 3-0," Zack says in a sing-song tone, and I kick him under the table. "Ow! What did I do to deserve that?"

"It looks like you've already forgotten _your_ birthday," I say meaningfully. He looks blank, but everyone else has cottoned on and begins to laugh.

Zack was the first of us to turn thirty, and celebrated it in true style by becoming progressively more morose, depressed, and eventually tearful. I don't think any of us have been back to Santa Maria's since. I know we had to give an overly generous tip to compensate them for the amount of napkins Zack used to mop up his tears...

"Fine. But word to the wise, stay at home, lock your door and don't answer your phone. Because I will get you back for your birthday card which told me I was over the hill and life was all downhill from here."

"It was a good idea at the time!" I moan, but now the joke's on me. Still, the heat seems to have moved away from 'What to do on the Date of Death', and I can cope with a little payback. I hope...

* * *

Trini is as good as her principles, and Tommy and I are forced into kitchen duty after the meal is over. She, Jason and Zack retire to the den to watch sports, and I fill the sink with soapy water. "Do you want to wash or dry?"

"Dry. I really wish they would just bite the bullet and buy a dishwasher," Tommy grumbles as he leans against the draining board, placing him in uncomfortable proximity to me. I swear the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up, and I have to busy myself by moving the piles of cutlery into the water.

"It'll never happen. Trini enjoys enforcing slavery on her friends far too much for her to give in," I point out, and start washing the forks and spoons, before rinsing and dumping them on the draining board for Tommy to dry. "At least you're not on your own as usual."

"For which I can only thank you," he says feelingly, and turns round to face the draining board and start drying. "I think this time was a record. I'm sure I've pulled kitchen duty for six straight weeks."

"It wouldn't surprise me," I say, and then cannot think of a single thing to say. At all.

What is wrong with me? Only a month ago, we were having in-depth conversations about life, the universe, and everything. Now, all because of a stupid, pathetic, little crush, I can't string a sentence together.

Except, it isn't a little crush, and life isn't as simple as that. What's that saying, something about you can never go back? Does that count when the person you want to go back to is now a completely different person?

I would never have placed him as a science teacher. And I bet he would never have predicted I'd be a court reporter. I know that some things about him are still the same, but which things?

Luckily, he breaks me out of my reverie before I start babbling incoherently and throw myself into the dirty water. "Do you have any plans for your birthday at all? You managed to avoid answering the question before the topic was hijacked."

"Throw myself off a cliff?" I say, only half-joking, and continue to wash, moving from the cutlery to the plates. After a couple of seconds, I sense that Tommy's stopped moving, and I turn to look at him after setting the now-clean plate onto the draining board. He's looking at me with a concerned expression, as if he actually expects me to dive into the bubbles there and then. "Relax! I was joking. I may not be impressed about turning thirty, but I'm hardly suicidal."

"You don't seem to be taking it that well," he retorts, refusing to dry the plate and locks onto my gaze. "What's wrong?"

And with that, something in me deflates, and I'm back to where I was when making the list in the company of a bottle of good wine. I grab a dishcloth and dry my hands before going to sit down at the table, not caring that I've abandoned the dishes. Tommy follows, and pulls out the chair next to mine to sit down.

"It sounds pathetic. But... it's like I've spent the past decade in some sort of time warp," I say haltingly, trying to articulate what I can barely understand about myself.

"It's possible, but unlikely," Tommy says quietly, trying to bring some humour to the situation. "In what way?"

I shake my head and stare at the table without taking anything in front of my eyes in. "I don't know. It's like... before I was twenty, I did so much. We saved the world on a weekly basis, for god's sake! And the whole medal thing.. And now, I'm starting to realise that in the past decade, I may have got a degree and a job, but nothing makes me as happy. It might not be the case technically, but it feels as though I've stood still. And I've achieved nothing I wanted to by the time I was thirty. Not that I had any specific goals in mind, but I still wanted to try..."

Oh no. I'm very close to tears, and this was not the plan. I don't know where all the negativity in me has sprung from but I know that I need it to go away now. I sniff, far too loudly, and push my chair back to stand up, but Tommy has caught my hand and is holding it too tightly for me to break away. "If we don't finish the dishes before Trini gets suspicious we'll be on kitchen duty for the rest of our lives, no matter how many times you're late," I joke half-heartedly, wanting to sweep this under the carpet and only examine it at my leisure. Preferably when a large bar of chocolate is to hand.

"I have a suggestion," Tommy says calmly, and still holding onto my hand. At least I have the presence of mind to realise that it's nice holding his hand, and I sit back down again, defeated.

"Carry on."

"Trini mentioned your insane list of age-defying stunts, or whatever you're calling it."

"The List. But it has to be said as though both words are capitalised," I instruct. "Continue."

"Is she some sort of keeper of the list? Excuse me, The List," he says, putting greater emphasis on the first syllable of the two words, and injecting suitable gravitas to the occasion.

"Nothing's been made official," I confirm, not entirely sure where this is going.

"I have the feeling that she may make this worse for you. Not because she has bad intentions, but because she likes to make things a competition these days. Or she might convince you to join a cult just to observe the psychological effects," Tommy says.

"I wouldn't necessarily go that far, but I can see how you might think so," I concede. Trini has embraced self-assertion over the years, and although this is undoubtedly a good thing when she's asserting her own rights, it can be downright scary when she's trying to assert someone else's. Namely, mine, when I like my rights the way they are. And I think I see where this is going. "Do you have any proposals to make?" I ask, feeling happy enough to break out a smile.

He smiles sheepishly. "I propose that I take over as keeper. It makes more sense - you and I are both free at weekends, and Trini and Jason should spend their free time with Charlie. This way, you have someone there to stop you from throwing yourself into dishwater, but persistent enough to make you do things when you're about to talk yourself out of them."

This is very true. Tommy doesn't often use his powers of persuasion on me these days, but I remember them being very effective in the past... I'm still worried about what ideas Trini has put into his head, but to be brutally honest the worry is far overshadowed by the exciting prospect of many weekends ahead learning Spanish with Tommy. Going skydiving with Tommy. I'll have to think up some other improvement-relating things pretty soon, but that won't be a problem. "As long as you don't force me into going potholing, it's a deal."

"Deal," he says, and shakes my hand, which is still happily entwined with his. "Saturday, around eleven, for the first installment of The List?"

"Saturday," I say, and smile at him before tugging his hand and finally managing to stand up without letting go.

This should be interesting...

I


End file.
